Hat-crossed Lovers
by CharlesTheBold
Summary: What happens when a Hufflepuff falls in love with a Ravenclaw? To start with, a lot of logistical problems... Please review.
1. Chapter 1

**Hat-Crossed Lovers**

_(Disclaimer: I have no business connection with HARRY POTTER. My only purpose in writing this story is to have fun and maybe share it)_

**CHAPTER I**

Ivan first saw the vision at the Ravenclaw table in Hogwarts' main dining hall.

He nudged his roommate Paul, who was sitting beside him. "Who is that girl at the Ravenclaw table? Dark-haired, dressed in blue?"

Paul looked. "That's Becky Issacson. She was in my Potions class last year. Why?"

The true answer was that Ivan thought she was very pretty, and wanted to get to know her. But it would be embarrassing to say that, and might get Ivan much teasing. As a new student at Hogwarts, he didn't want to attract attention that early, so he lied. "She looks like a girl in my home town, Annie Lowell, and I was surprised to see her here. But now I see I've made a mistake."

Paul nodded and went back to eating. Meanwhile Ivan found himself feeling a bit guilty over the white lie. He was a Hufflepuff, and Hufflepuffs were supposed to be honest. It was not a rule imposed on Hufflepuffs from outside; rather, the Sorting Hat was supposed to take inner traits into account when assigning students to Houses, so it must have detected Ivan's honest streak and selected his House on that basis.

He knew what his grandfather would say to that. "Boy, don't let a stupid hat tell you how to live your life. YOU choose your life's path. Our family always has."

Grandpa was a Muggle, one who had married a witch without knowing her background until after marriage. His own family manufactured custom-made leather goods, and he and his wife discovered how, through her magical powers, the products could be made more cheaply. Their "secret process" enabled them to earn millions of pounds each year, making them quite rich by Muggle standards. And since they were able to exchange some of the pounds into Galleons at Gringotts, they were rich by wizard standards as well. That gave Grandpa a certain respect for wizardry, but it didn't mean that he approved of every feature of wizard culture. Grandma, in turn, got fascinated by Muggle ways learnt through her husband.

When their first child, Ivan's mother, first received the acceptance letter from Hogwarts, Grandpa was not happy with the idea of her going to the wizard school. He knew the course of study from his wife, and he worried that it would not expose her to information she would need to inherit the family business – modern communications, financial practices and so on. Grandma saw the point of his objections, and agreed that going to the school was not obligatory, but she also observed that keeping her out of the school would make her a virtual outsider in wizard society. Eventually they reached a compromise: for the next 3 years the girl would go to a Muggle school, and her parents would hire a wizard to tutor her in basic spells. After that she would enter Hogwarts, as a Fourth Year, and stay with the school until the final Year. It worked out, so the younger siblings were treated the same way, and so was Ivan in the next generation.

The unusual course of study had consequences, however. Living among Muggles, Ivan had to be careful not get too friendly with his neighbors, for fear of giving away the family secret. (The honest streak again) Those friendships he did make got abruptly interrupted when Ivan got sent to Hogwarts at age 14. The cover story, that he was being sent to the States to learn American customs so that the family business could expand there, failed to explain why he could not reply to letters or answer phone calls in his new home, and he knew that his casual friends would lose interest in him.

Going to Hogwarts involved different social problems. The vast majority of Hogwarts students had arrived at age 11, and had built up a web of acquaintances over three years. The acquaintances were not always positive – it was difficult to get along with a Slytherin – but at least the typical student knew who they were or where they stood. Ivan did not. Perhaps it was fortunate that he had landed in Hufflepuff, whose tradition of fair play prevented the formation of cliques. People like Paul accepted him rather quickly and were willing to teach him the ropes.

But now there was a girl. Becky Isaacson was her name, according to Paul. She was not a member of Hufflepuff, where he could easily strike up a conversation with her in the common room, but in Ravenclaw. The Hufflepuffs lived in a comfortable suite of rooms underground; they reminded Kevin of Tolkien's "a hobbit hole, and that means comfort". The Ravenclaws lived in a tower and retreated there every evening. You were supposed to stick to your own House after dinner, and the expectation was reinforced by various security measures and code words that locked you out of Houses not your own. It was almost symbolic: the girl whom he wanted to see lived in an unapproachable tower, like Rapunzel.

How could they possibly even have a decent conversation?

(TO BE CONTINUED)


	2. Chapter 2

**Hat-Crossed Lovers**

Chapter 2

_As I was going to Saint Ives_

_I met a man with seven wives_

Becky didn't listen to the Door's rhyming riddle too closely; she knew it already. The Door couldn't possibly be expected to come up with something original every time Ravenclaw members showed up..

_Kits, cats, sacks, wives_

_How many were going to Saint Ives?_

"One, because all of the others were going AWAY from Saint Ives."

"Well argued," said the Door, and it opened to allow her into the Ravenclaw House.

That was something she had noticed for years about the Door: it didn't ask for a right answer, just an answer that could be justified. Maybe it was originally too doctrinaire, and was locking out legitimate students too often, so one of the teachers had reprogrammed it. Anyway, she was in.

Becky walked to the windows to admire the view of the mountains, something that never stopped impressing her. Even Gryffindor, also located in a tower, apparently lacked such a vista.

"Becky?" asked a familiar voice behind her.

Uh-oh, she thought. Recent conversations with Gilbert often ended badly, which was all the more frustrating because he was such a nice boy.

She turned around. "Hullo, Bertie."

"Hi. Look, I've got a voucher for two at the Three Broomsticks this Saturday. Would you like to come with me?"

"Thank you, but I was intending to do research in the Library Saturday afternoon."

Gilbert looked hesitant, as if nerving himself to say something he knew would be awkward. Finally: "You always have a conflict, whenever I ask you out. Please be frank with me, Becky. Isn't it true that you're just not interested?"

"All right, I'll be frank. You're a generous bloke, Bertie, and very clever." The last was particularly high praise for a Ravenclaw, and she meant it sincerely. "But we've known each other for three years. As friends. Why have you suddenly found me sexy? Isn't it just hormones?"

Most boys might have reacted angrily, but Gilbert actually thought through the suggestion. "I suppose so. It's bloody awkward, how boys and girls mature at different ages."

That WAS frank. "Several things are bloody awkward, about trying to get into a relationship here at Hogwarts. You can't have 'love at first sight' if you see the same people every day for years. And if something goes wrong and the relationship sours, you can't get away from your ex. You'll still meet him every day here in the Common Room."

"We can intellectualize it all we want," said Gilbert, "but I still enjoy your company."

Becky was starting to feel bad about pouring cold water on his hopes. "Fine. You've got it. It would be lovely to go to the Three Broomsticks with you." Was it too late for that? Wouldn't he think she was taking him for pity?

But Gilbert apparently decided to stop while he was ahead. "Thanks. It's a date, then." He didn't say it in a triumphant or gloating way, but simply with happiness. He turned and headed for the steps to the boy's dorm.

Becky tried to imagine a pair of Gryfindors, or Slytherins, or even Muggles, having a conversation like that. Nowhere but in Ravenclaw. _Sometimes we clever people can act like bloody fools-_

_0-0-0-0-0_

By the time she returned from Hogsmeade that Saturday, Becky was feeling much more positive about the date, and even embarrassed by her original fuss. It was, frankly, pleasant to be desired. If Bertie had gotten pushy things might have got awkward, but he had acted the perfect gentleman. And, as Becky herself had predicted, it was unlikely that a new boy friend was going to come out of nowhere.

"Miss Isaacson?"

Becky turned in surprise. Nobody called her "Miss Isaacson" except for the professors, and standing in the entrance hall was a teenaged boy.

"Excuse me, my name is Ivan Howe. You probably don't know me -"

"No, I recognize you. You're a transfer student." He had been hard to miss during the Sorting at this year's opening banquet. A boy her own age, mixed in with all the First Year kids. She couldn't remember what House he had been sorted into, but she definitely hadn't seen him at Ravenclaw.

"Not actually a transfer. My family had private instructors for me for three years."

"Why?"

"That's rather a long story. The point is, my instructors didn't quite cover everything, and I've found some gaps in my knowledge. Particularly Charms."

"I'm sorry."

"I've been trying to find somebody to tutor me, so I can catch up. They say you're very clever –"

"Not really. That girl who started in Gryfindor last year is the real brain." In fact, many of the students in her house wondered why the girl had not landed in Ravenclaw, where "wit without measure is Man's greatest treasure".

"But she's just Second Year, and we're Fourth Year."

"True."

"What I wanted to ask is, could I hire you to tutor me?"

"No need to bring money into it. But I suppose we could meet in one of the classrooms tomorrow; they're mostly empty during weekends. Which spells seem to give you trouble?"

"Well, there's Windgarden Leviosi for one."

Obviously he was pronouncing it wrong. "Okay. How about 2:00 in the afternoon, in the Charms classroom, for maybe an hour?"

"That would be cool. Thank you, Miss Is-"

"Oh, call me Rebecca. Or Becky."

"Thank you, Becky."

TO BE CONTINUED.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hat-Crossed Lovers**

**Chapter 3**

Ivan was delighted that his stratagem for getting a meeting with Rebecca Isaacson had succeeded. Instinct had told him that the way to approach a Ravenclaw was to appeal to intellectual pride: Rebecca had been flattered that he had chosen her as the expert that he needed as a tutor.

Thinking over it more thoroughly, however, he felt a little guilty about it. He didn't want to win Rebecca by deceit; he wanted her to like him as he liked her. If she discovered that he had lied to her to arrange this meeting, it could ruin her opinion of him. More practically, she might react by cursing him. Ravenclaws might know some exotic curses. He had heard of a particularly gruesome one called the Bat-Bogey Hex.

He told himself that it would be a mistake to be too aggressive. Let this session be what he had described it as, a tutoring section. Let the next move, if there was a next move, be hers.

"Hullo, Ivan," she said as he entered the Charms classroom.

"Hullo. Thank you for meeting with me, Rebecca." He tried to sound bland, to conceal the excitement he felt merely in talking with her.

"It's okay. Before we start, could you explain what your background is? Why you missed several years at Hogwarts?"

Ivan explained, as briefly as he could, the family business, tactfully avoiding his grandfather's criticism of the school, and instead stressing that he needed a Muggle-type education in order to be the future leader of the firm.

"So you deal with Muggles a lot?"

"We do. Not just customers, but also employees of our business."

"Doesn't it make it difficult to hide that you're witches?"

"No. At the company, we talk vaguely about 'family secrets' – the Muggle employees think we're talking about a technical process, and that it's intended to stay within the family."

Rebecca nodded. "My family has a related problem. You see, we're Jewish. We try to stay in touch with the broader Jewish community in Great Britain, but at the same time we have to conceal the fact that we're witches."

"Isn't witchcraft considered a sin? Um, I'm sorry -" he realized that that might be considered an accusation.

Rebecca frowned. "No, it's a good question. We've thought a lot about that, and we've talked to witches who practice other religions. We've decided that we don't practice witchcraft in the sense that the Torah prohibits it – making a deal with dark forces in order to gain magical powers. We're born with our magical powers – you might even say that they're God-given. But let's get down to business."

She retrieved a wand from somewhere in her robes, and took out a feather from her desk. "WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!" The feather floated into the air.

Ivan mispronounced the name at first, but realized that he would look stupid if he kept that up, and that the last thing you wanted a Ravenclaw girl to think was that you were stupid. After about five minutes he had the feather floating as well as Rebecca did.

She went on to other Charms. Some of them were ones Ivan genuinely did not know; his tutor had somehow overlooked them. That was a relief, because he did not have to lie about them.

As their hour was about up, he commented, "A lot of my trouble was with pronunciation. I suppose it's like computers – the command won't work unless you give it exactly right."

"You've worked with computers?"

"Some. We use them at our firm. But we have to be careful with them, not bring any wands or other magical devices near them, or do spells in the vicinity. Magic and electronics don't match. The Muggles do most of the computer work."

"I've heard that in ten years, almost everybody will have a computer at home. Except us wizards, I suppose."

"That's quite likely."

"Could you tell me about them? Oh, not now; our hour is up and I promised to meet with my girl friends when we were done. But maybe get together again here next week?"

"If you like." Ivan was surprised by the request, because none of his mates in Hufflepuff had shown the slightest interest in the subject. Maybe, being a Ravenclaw, she was simply interested. Maybe she thought that wizards would have to be able to talk about the machines, or risk giving themselves away; she mentioned trying to keep in touch with the non-wizard Jewish community.

Or maybe she had enjoyed the meeting and wanted another excuse to get together again-

TO BE CONTINUED


	4. Chapter 4

**Hat-Crossed Lovers**

**Chapter 4**

The school often did not have enough observant students to form the traditional _minyan_ of ten worshippers, so Rebecca went to the synagogue in Hogsmeade on Friday evenings (that the synagogue's name referred to a definitely non-kosher animal had originally struck her as funny, but she had gotten used to the anomaly over the years). It was one of the few cases where a student before Third Year was allowed to go to Hogsmeade, provided they had an older student as escort, so now she was escorting two younger students.

After the formal service, the worshippers had stayed to discuss some interesting news. Hermione Granger, a Second Year girl in Gryffindor, had actually met Nicholas Flamel shortly before his death this summer. Among other things, he told her that he received the instructions for making the Philosopher's Stone from a medieval Jew. Rebecca's group was curious to know who this Jew was. Flamel had sworn not to divulge his name, so Hermione didn't know it. Was he a wizard, or a Muggle alchemist who had duplicated some spells through hard work? If he was a wizard, did he have modern descendants in the wizard world? Most importantly, had he kept a copy of the Philosopher's Stone formula, and had he passed it down to later generations? Would it be possible to find the formula? Or, given the attempted theft the previous year, would it be better to let the formula stay hidden?

Rebecca resolved to send an owl to her family with the news sometime in the coming week.

When she got back to Ravenclaw Tower, the Door actually had a riddle that might be regarded as Torah-related "What was the first palindrome?"

"Madam, I'm Adam." Rebecca refrained from pointing out that Adam and Eve, if they really existed, would not have been speaking English in the Garden of Eden. One did not want to get on the bad side of a Door, so to speak.

Meanwhile the Door opened and Rebecca walked into the Common Room. Not surprisingly, Bertie was there, and he got up as she walked in.

"Ah there you are. I was worried when you didn't come back at the usual time."

Rebecca's first reaction was to tell Bertie to mind his own business. The second was to reflect that his "minding" represented his concern for her welfare. After all, rumour had it that somebody had infiltrated the castle one night last spring, trying to steal the Philosoper's Stone. Outside the Houses, it could be dangerous at night.

"We were discussing the news after services. I'm all right. Were you looking for me for a particular reason?" _As if I didn't know._

"Some of us were talking about having a study group, two o'clock Sunday. Are you interested?"

"Two o'clock? Sorry, I'm tutoring somebody at that time."

"Tutoring?"

"Ivan Howe, the new boy in Hufflepuff. He was tutored at home for the first three years, and had somc catching-up to do in Charms."

"Charms? Becky, Ivan Howe is in my Charms class. He's great at that stuff. Even knows some charms the rest of us don't."

"But == but - why did he tell me otherwise?"

Bertie lowered his voice and drew near. "Becky, you're a lovely girl. Sexy, I might even say, if you don't find that offensive. I've always been honest about how I feel about you. Apparently this Ivan Howe bloke wants time with you also, but he's much less honest about what he wants."

"Bloody hell!" Becky shouted as she caught on. Several people in the common room turned to stare at her exclamation. She turned red and lowered her voice as well. "Sorry. Ta for the warning."

"You're welcome. But about that study group—"

"No. I'm going to keep that appointment on Sunday. And I'm going to tell him what _I_ think of _HIM._"

"Becky, be careful. I told you he knows some extra charms. If you get him angry, he might curse you."

"I'll bring a girl friend along. But, again, thank you for the warning."

Rebecca dropped into a chair and brooded. Thinking back on it, Ivan's mistakes had been a little obvious – how could a private tutor have failed to know the proper pronunciation of WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA, one of the first spells a wizard learnt? He had made a fool of her, and Ravenclaws in particular hated to be made to look foolish. But maybe Bertie was right that confronting him would be a bad idea. She needed to get advice from somebody a bit more objective.

She looked around for Ishtar Evans, the girl Prefect for Ravenclaw. The prefects' main purpose was to cut down on misbehaviour among the younger pupils, but they were also supposed to help the others with personal problems if asked.

She couldn't find Ishtar, but she did spot Hilda, Ishtar's roommate, and walked over to her.

"Hilda, could you tell me where Ishy is?"

"She's out," Hilda said curtly.

Out? It was nearly 11:00, and even Rebecca's late return had concerned Bertie. "When will she be back?"

"Tomorrow morning, probably."

"But where did she go?" Aside from Hogwarts and Hogmeade, there wasn't a convenient place in the area to spend the night.

"Can't exactly say."

Savitri Ramasita, who also roomed with the girls, walked up. "Hilda's being coy. Ishy's with her boyfriend. Dunno where, but you can guess what they're doing."

Rebecca guessed, and blushed at the image in her head. People seldom talked about sexual activity at Hogwarts, and it was fairly clear that people didn't do it in Ravenclaw Tower or the other Houses, not when there were too many roommates around. But where there's a will-

Rebecca gave up the notion of talking to Ishtar. But instead, knowledge of Ishtar's activities got tangled up with her suspicions about Ivan. She wanted all the more to confront the boy.

-0-0-0-0

"Hullo," said Ivan. "Um, who's your friend?"

"This is Penelope Clearwater. "She's here to make sure that I don't care too carried away." Rebecca drew out her wand and pointed it at Ivan. "You're a bloody liar, Ivan. I've talked to your classmates, and they say you're a wiz at Charms, pun unintended. Why did you lie to me? Were you trying to lure me into your bed? Pervert! I'm only 14."

"What's this about beds? I just wanted to get to know you, Rebecca. Out where I come from, it would be easy to do it, but Hogwarts makes it ridiculously difficult."

"What do you mean?"

"How can people from different house talk to each other? During classes you're supposed to be paying attention to the professor. At dinner each House is at its own table, and people think you're weird if you try to cross to another table. After dinner everybody goes to their Houses to let their hair down, and you need a password to get in. Why does it have to be that way?"

Penelope, as a Ravenclaw, took the question at face value and answered it. "I think it started with the Slytherins. They didn't want to socialize with the less-than-pure bloods at the other Houses, so they put up passwords and other barriers. And the other houses retaliated."

"Yes, that's quite likely," said Ivan. "But why should it create a barrier between a Hufflepuff boy and a Ravenclaw girl? Why is it perverse of me to want to talk to you?"

"No reason," admitted Rebecca.

"I'm sorry I lied. But I was trying to get around the system, not get around YOU."

"Let's go, Becky," said Penelope. "I think he's explained himself properly."

"No." Rebecca put down her wand, but left it pointing at Ivan. "You promised to tell me about computers, so tell me about computers. And if you dare get lovey-dovey, I'll zap you."

Ivan cleared his throat. "Computers were invented in the 1940s. In the 50 years since, they've become less expensive and easier to use-"

TO BE CONTINUED

_(Author's Note: the part about Hermione and Nicholas Flamel is from an earlier fanfic that I wrote, HERMIONE GRANGER AND THE PHILOSOPHER)_


	5. Chapter 5

**Hat-Crossed Lovers**

**CHAPTER 5**

"Hullo, Ivan", said Paul, in their shared bedroom one night. "Do you remember Rebecca Issacson, the girl you asked me about several weeks ago?"

"I think so," said Ivan, trying to sound nonchalant. "What about her?"

"She's in my Arithmancy class, and she was the only one who got a complicated homework project completely right. Professor Vector was very complimentary of her."

"Good for her," said Ivan. As he expected, Paul interpreted the bland reply to mean Ivan was not much interested, and he changed the subject. But, in fact, Ivan dwelt on the subject all night.

Ivan had not spoken to Becky since that meeting where she accused him of being a  
"bloody liar". He had, of course, passed her occasionally in the hallways of the school – that was inevitable, given the layout of Hogwarts. But she always seemed to turn away. Ivan was tempted to follow her, but he feared that she would report him to the authorities as a stalker. He had also conceived the notion of joining some of her extra-curricular activities in order to see her, but she seemed to have pulled out of most of those activities, remaining in Ravenclaw Tower, where he was forbidden to go.

It was all frustrating, because Ivan had realized that his attraction to her was no longer simply the matter of a pretty face. Having spoken with her, he admired her curiosity, her generosity in wanting to tutor a supposedly poor student. He even admired her insistence on being treated honestly, even though at the moment her annoyance was keeping them apart.

After breakfast in the Common Hall the next morning, he approached her. Maybe he could congratulate her on the Arithmancy project, as a pretext for speaking with her. To his surprise, she turned toward him instead of away.

"Good morning, Mr. Howe"

Mr. Howe? Good lord, she was being formal. Students rarely addressed each other that way.

"There's something I'd like to show you," she continued. "Please meet me in the Charms classroom at 7 tonight."

"Tonight? Not Sunday?"

"Tonight." She walked off.

That promise kept him excited for the full day. Was it possible that the extreme formality was an act in public, and that she would unwind once they were in private? He reminded himself not to get his hopes up, and to let her take the initiative.

0-0-0-0-0

She entered the classroom exactly at 7 that night. "Good evening," she said politely, and she drew a small black box out of her robe, putting it down on one of the student desks. She tapped it with her wand, and a picture of Becky appeared on top.

"What's five plus six?" Becky asked.

"Eleven," said the picture. Like most pictures at Hogwarts, it moved, though only the advanced ones were able to talk.

"What's four times seven?"

"Twenty-eight?"

"Is one-hundred-one divisible by three?"

"Yes. Thirty-seven." replied the picture.

"Cool, " Ivan said. "You've got a calculator that will work in spite of magical interference."

"More than that. It's a _magic calculator_," she said. "Here at Hogwarts, we can't use electronic devices because magic disrupts their inner workings. But some bloke invented a magic radio a decade or so, and now most wizards have one. They can communicate, at least one-way, without relying on owls. So when you described computers to me, I wondered: is a magic computer possible? You need something that can handle numbers, but that something doesn't have to be electronic."

"That's a marvelous idea!" exclaimed Ivan, and it was sincere admiration, not just an attempt to flatter the girl. "And this is it?"

"Ta very much. This is it."

"Is this how you did your Arithmancy homework so well? I heard about that."

"Yes."

"Why didn't you show this to Professor Vector? It would be even more impressive than doing the homework assignment right."

"I don't want to show it around yet. It's very primitive, just simple arithmetic, no higher maths. The only people who know about yet are my roommates – I did most of the work in our bedroom – and you. Will you swear to keep it a secret?"

"I will."

"And now, about improving it. You told me that although Muggle computers are very powerful, that at bottom is just simple calculations strung together – ones and zeros. Correct?"

"That's right, though I don't know the details."

"Could you get me a book on the subject? Maybe I can enhance my magic computer in a similar way."

"I'll write a computer expert at my family's company. Of course I won't tell him exactly what you're doing."

"Thank you, Ivan."

She stuck the box back into her robe and went out. He was happy she had entrusted him with the secret, though after thinking through it he realized that it might only be because he was the only one who could obtain a computer textbook for her. Oh well, at least it would heal the breach.

"EXPELLIAMUS!" He heard a male voice yell from the corridor, followed by a yelp from Becky. Ivan dashed outside.

He saw a Slytherin boy he recognized, Wieland Smith, pointing his wand at Becky, and waving a second wand, which looked like the girl's, in his left hand. Becky was leaning against a wall, looking frightened.

"How did you beat me at the Arithmancy test?" demanded Wieland. "You cheated!"

"I won through sheer ingenuity!" insisted Becky. Clearly, she was not going to mention the magic computer.

Wieland saw Ivan, in the act of pulling out his wand, and once more yelled "Expelliamus!"

The wand flew out of Ivan's hand and into Wieland's. He then turned back to Becky, assuming that Ivan was helpless without his wand. That was his big mistake, because Ivan had grown up in a culture where people did not have wands, and knew other ways to fight.

Ivan charged at the Slytherin. By the time Wieland heard him and turned in Ivan's direction, Ivan was close enough to attack. He rammed his fist into Wieland's solar plexus. The Slytherin went down and was too out of breath to utter a curse, Ivan grabbed all three wands and politely returned Becky's to her.

"Gimme back my wand!" gasped Wieland. The idea of hitting Ivan back and seizing the wand did not seem to occur to him. Wizard axiom: without a wand, you were helpless.

"Not so fast," said Ivan. "I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll go out on the bridge tomorrow morning and throw it in the lake. You can dive for it. And if you politely absent yourself from the vicinity immediately, I'll tell you exactly where I threw it."

Wieland slinked away, apparently preferring that threat to fighting without a wand. Ivan watched him until he was distracted by a peck on his cheek.

"Damn it," said Becky. "I shouldn't have done that. But thank you."

It was not exactly the "Ooh my hero" that Ivan was expecting. He reminded himself that rescuing a girl did not obligate her to love him, or even put up with some irritating wooing. But maybe it would wipe out his offense of lying to her, and they could start fresh.

TO BE CONTINUED.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hat-Crossed Lovers**

**Chapter 6**

When Becky first came to Hogwarts, one of the things that took time to get used to was the baths. They were huge – round constructions, nearly three metres in diameter, with numerous taps to deliver various kinds of soap, water, even perfume. Becky didn't know how other Houses handle it, but the Ravenclaws had decided long ago that it was wasteful for one person to use all the water at a shot. So, just as she was starting to get to know her new roommates, she was dismayed to learn that they were expected to take their baths together.

It wasn't as humiliating as it sounded – the girl's prefect for Ravenclaw told them that there was a Charm – _Nebulate_ - that would create a sort of visual fog around each witch to hide embarrassing details. The prefect invoked it the first few times, until the First Years learnt to cast it themselves. And eventually the roommates got so chummy that they simply stopped trying to hide themselves.

By fourth year, bath time actually became nearly the most pleasant task of the day. You were with your best friends, and you didn't have to think about schoolwork (even Ravenclaws liked getting away from schoolwork on occasion), and could chat about other things.

"Becky," said Lizzie, her favourite roommate, "the people in the Chess Club have been asking when you'd be back."

"It's nice of them to miss me," said Becky, "but I'm working on a big project now. A sort of machine." She still didn't want to give out details yet. Ivan had taught her the concept of a computer programme, and she was trying to figure out how to embody it in a spell.

"And that's more important than being with your friends?" asked Kitty, another roommate.

Becky winced; sometimes Kitty asked tactless questions, though certainly not nearly as weird as the new First Year, Luna Lovegood. "I think it IS important to work on this sort of thing."

"Why?" asked Lizzie.

Becky decided it was time to talk about some things that were worrying her (as the Prefect had punned, the bath was good to get things off one's chest). These were her best friends after all. "It's about Muggles. For years we've been talking about how our powers give us an advantage over Muggles, that their technology is a poor substitute. But here's the thing: our powers remain the same, while Muggle technology keeps improving. We need to keep up."

"So you agree with the people who say that Muggles are the enemy?" asked Kitty.

"Not at all. Just a standard of comparison, to show us what we should be doing."

"So what does that boy have to do with it?" asked Kitty.

"What boy?"

Janie, another roommate, snorted. "Becky, don't try to lie while we're in the bath! Body language gives you away, and we can see your whole body. The Hufflepuff boy, Ivan Something."

"Ivan Howe. He's giving me advice about Muggle machines. His family runs a company that deals with Muggles a lot, so they need the machines."

"You're sure that it's not Ivan himself that you're fascinated by?" asked Kitty.

"Of course not."

"Then you wouldn't be upset to learn that he's been seen with another girl?"

"WHAT?"

"Aha, body language again. You ARE upset," observed Janie.

Suddenly conversations in the bath were a lot less pleasant. But it wasn't really the roommates' fault. If their story was true, it was Ivan's.

The next day, at breakfast, Becky positioned herself so that she could see the Hufflepuff table. Yes, there was Ivan, talking to a small blonde-haired girl, and they seemed in earnest about something.

Becky had no classes with Ivan that day, but at the evening meal, she again looked, and he was talking to the blonde again. She had to know more.

As all the students filed out of the eating hall, Becky excused herself from her friends, and followed Ivan's group. Fortunately it was a big enough crowd that nobody noticed her.

The group went down a flight of stairs, even though the eating hall was already on ground level. She remembered that the Hufflepuff House, like Slytherin, was located underground, just as Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were located in towers (two down, two up, a nice symmetry there, but Becky was too upset to admire the aesthetics).

Eventually they stopped at a wall with some barrels piled up near it. One of the boys tapped on the barrels several times, and the wall opened up. Apparently the tapping had been an entry code, like answering a riddle from the Door in Ravenclaw tower. Becky was starting to get rattled. Spying on the password of another House was a very naughty thing to do, like spying on girls in the bath without permission. She tried to dash behind a suit of mail in the hall, but her wand hit it with a loud clang. Ivan, who was one of the last boys in the group, turned around and let the wall close behind him. They were alone.

"Who's there. Becky?!"

She stepped out again. "Yes, it's me. Who's the girl?"

"What girl?"

"Blondie!"

Ivan looked bewildered. "Oh. Her name's Euphemia Deane. A first year in my House."

"Why are you talking together so much?"

"If you must know, her family's in danger of being caught out by Muggles. Since I've dealt with Muggles a lot, she wanted to know some good cover stories that could divert suspicion. She's going to write down my suggestions and send an owl to her family tonight. And I'd think you not to repeat any of that, because she's very upset."

It sounded perfectly aboveboard; it was a quandary that a wizard family often found itself in. "I – I won't - are you being honest with me?"

Ivan looked angry, then seemingly controlled himself. "I suppose I deserve that, having lied to you before. But I assure you that it's the honest truth this time. Why do you care?"

It was typical of Becky that she often didn't straighten out her feelings until she had to verbalize them. To her own astonishment, she stammered:

"Because – because - I LOVE you, Ivan!"

TO BE CONTINUED

_(AUTHOR'S NOTE: I found it odd that Rowling never discussed baths except in extreme situations - Moaning Myrtle's domicile in CHAMBER OF SECRETS, or the egg scene in GOBLET OF FIRE. In both of those cases, the "tubs" were huge. So I decided to speculate just how the Hogwarts people used them.)_


	7. Chapter 7

**Hat-Crossed Lovers**

**Chapter 7**

Before Ivan could absorb Rebecca's revelation, Ivan heard the wall behind him starting to slide open again, probably Euphemia coming out to post her message home. Rebecca looked agitated. "I don't want to be caught here!"

Ivan was puzzled exactly why she looked so frightened. Maybe was just self-conscious about her declaration. But if Rebecca wanted concealment, he would find it for her.

"Come with me."

He dashed forward, and around a corner, with Rebecca following. There was a closet here where the elves kept some kitchen supplies. He opened in and squeezed inside with her, closing the door before the newcomer could round the corner.

There wasn't much room here for two people in addition to all the supplies, and Ivan found himself pressing against her . He couldn't apologize because the passerby might hear them. It was awkward, but at the same time, rather pleasing.

After about a minute, he heard Rebecca whisper "_Homenum Revelio_!" He didn't know the words, but they were obviously Latin and presumed that it was a charm. She switched to English. "Okay, it's clear."

Ivan groped for the knob and opened the door again; they emerged into the hallway. "What's harmony rebello? I honestly don't know that one."

" 'Reveal a human'. I learnt that from somebody in Ravenclaw. Some people use it when they're up to something at night and don't want to be caught be Filch."

They walked back to the stairwell which led up to the main floor, and started to walk up. "I suppose you think I'm a silly schoolgirl, " said Rebecca.

"Well, you are a schoolgirl, but you're not silly. I wanted to say it too, but I thought you didn't like me. I love you Rebecca."

They stopped at a landing that happened to be out of sight from either floor. Ivan couldn't tell who started the gesture, but suddenly they were embracing.

Ivan couldn't tell how long it lasted. In one sense it seemed to last forever, yet when it was interrupted it seemed to have been all too brief. The interruption took the form of a footfall at the bottom of the stairs. Because of the way the stairwell spiraled, they were currently out of sight, but that wouldn't last.

"Damn!" whispered Rebecca. "I really gotta get out of here—"

"Wait. Greenhouse, tomorrow, same time?"

"Okay."

She dashed upward, and Ivan headed back down. When he reached the newcomer, who turned out to be the popular Cedric Diggory, Ivan was deliberately slow in getting out of the way, hoping to win Rebecca some extra time. Cedric didn't seem suspicious.

"Hullo, Ivan. What are you doing out?"

"I left something in my afternoon classroom, and went back to retrieve it."

"Did you find what you were looking for?"

"Oh, yes, I found it," said Ivan happily.

All that night, Ivan felt pure delight. Rebecca had not only forgiven him, she returned his feelings. From now on, things would be perfect.

The next morning, he wasn't so sure.

At breakfast, he looked over at the Ravenclaw table, where he could see Rebecca sitting with some other girls her age, probably her roommates. She looked up, spotted Ivan, and they looked into each other's eyes for a few seconds. Then Rebecca turned away and started talking to her girl friends. Somehow Ivan could tell that she was NOT talking about being in love. She didn't want her friends to know.

Then Ivan recalled that Rebecca was not in a single one of his classes, even though they were in the same Year. If she was, he would have been aware of her existence from the first day of classes. He would not have a chance to see her until they met at the greenhouse.

The greenhouse was a logical meeting place. It was run by Professor Sprout, who was the faculty advisor for Hufflepuff, and the members of that House sometimes helped her tend the plants there. Now he wasn't so sure that it was a good idea. A carnivorous plant kept hovering around, trying to take a bite of him. When he retreated to the other end of the greenhouse he was aware of an unpleasant stench; Sprout had apparently received a new shipment of dragon dung to be used as fertilizer.

But that was forgotten as his beloved appeared and threw herself in his arms. This time he kissed her, and she returned the kiss with interest.

"What's going on here?" came a shrill voice. Ivan turned around to find himself looking at dismay at Professor Sprout. Apparently she had come to check on some plants.

The advisor looked from Ivan to Rebecca and back, and chuckled. "On second thought, don't answer that. I think I can tell-"

TO BE CONTINUED.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hat-Crossed Lovers**

**Chapter 8**

Rebecca hung back in the shadows of the greenhouse, embarrassed. Professor Sprout was Ivan's house advisor, not hers, but Rebecca had taken some of her Herbology classes, and of course Professors were expected to remember their students. So she knew who Rebecca was. But what did she really have to be embarrassed about? Just some innocent kissing – well, snogging. It wasn't as if she had been caught in bed with a boy. To be sure they shouldn't have been in the greenhouse without permission, but Sprout seemed amused rather than annoyed, and Ivan, being a denizen of Sprout's house, had a better chance of talking them out of that.

But Rebecca was caught completely off guard when she heard Ivan say, "Professor, I'd like to transfer into Ravenclaw House."

"What?!" exclaimed Professor Sprout.

"What?!" exclaimed Rebecca.

"It's nothing wrong with Hufflepuff, of course," said Ivan. "It's just that I'd like to be with Becky. After all, I've only been in Hufflepuff less than 2 months – it won't be that big a change."

"Well – this is very irregular – I'll have to think about it. And maybe talk to the elder Professor Flitwick, who is the advisor for Ravenclaw. I'll get back to you in a few days."

"Professor Flitwick doesn't have to know my name, does he?" asked Rebecca.

"I can leave out the name of the lady involved," said Sprout.

But she saw Ivan stare at her, and realized how it must have looked to him: HE was going out on a limb, and SHE seemed anxious to cover her arse. This was so needlessly complicated.

When she got back to Ravenclaw Tower – the Door's riddle seemed singularly stupid this time - she sought out Ishtar Evans. She had been shocked a few weeks ago to learn that Ishtar was secretly sleeping with her boy friend, but now Rebecca realized that the Prefect would be sympathetic to a love relationship. So after receiving assurances that Ishtar would keep the situation confidential, Rebecca told her the whole story.

"So he's a Hufflepuff?" asked the Prefect, "Hmm, that's not good."

"Why the hell not?" demanded Rebecca. "Why can't a Ravenclaw befriend a Hufflepuff?"

"Well, the whole division into Houses is based on the notion of compatibility."

"Compatibility can be taken too far. I mean, what am I? I'm a Jewish witch. Do you know how many Jewish witches or wizards there are at Hogwarts? Seven! We can't even form a _minyan_, a quota of ten, without going to Hogsmeade. What sort of state would I be in if I decided not to hobnob with anybody who wasn't a Jewish witch? But I don't restrict myself like that. I take baths with Gentile witches, and during the holidays I go horse riding with Jewish Muggle girls. And now I have a Hufflepuff boy friend, so what?"

"It's not you who would have compatibility problems, " said Ishtar. "It's him. You know the intellectual games and riddles Ravenclaws enjoy. Would he fit in?"

"I'm sure he'd fit in with enough effort. He's quite clever." Why the assumption that Ivan couldn't fit into Ravenclaw? Because the Sorting Hat had put him into Hufflepuff?

"Well, we'll see what Sprout says. If not – well, off the record, I can tell you a few tricks about how to meet somebody privately."

_Yes, I bet you know a few,_ thought Rebecca sourly. _So people don't catch you with your sweetheart with your knickers off._

After Herbology class a couple of days later, Sprout privately asked Rebecca to come to her office later that afternoon. When Rebecca came, she was not surprised to see Ivan there already.

"Ahem," said Sprout, looking awkward, and Rebecca guessed immediately that it was bad news. "I have discussed the possibility of inter-House transfer with some other people at the school, and there are difficulties. Suppose that Ivan does transfer into Ravenclaw, leaving his original friends behind in Hufflepuff – and then the two of you fall out of love. Then he'd be stranded in the wrong house for the rest of his stay at Hogwarts."

"We're not going to fall out of love!" protested Rebecca.

"How can you be sure of that? You are both 14 years old. Have either of you ever been in love before?"

"No," said Rebecca.

"No," echoed Ivan.

"And how long have you been in this relationship?"

"Um, a week," said Ivan reluctantly.

"Precisely. It's much too early to make a decision that will affect Ivan's future at Hogwarts."

"But what's the alternative? Sneaking around school, kissing in dark corners, as if we're doing something dirty?" demanded Rebecca.

"Yes, I quite sympathize with that. So I'll make you an offer: if you two wish privacy, you can continue to meet in my greenhouse. As long, of course, as you leave my plants alone. And I'd prefer that you not -"

"We're not going to make love in the plant beds, if that's what you're insinuating!" said Rebecca angrily.

"Um, yes. Now, a further concession. If, after say a few months, you two still consider yourselves very much in love, then we can reconsider the transfer."

They argued a little more, but Sprout would not change her mind. It suddenly occurred to Rebecca that the teachers, so clever in general, had little experience of love. Not one of them was married, though Rebecca didn't know if that was a rule, or a coincidence. It left them unable to empathize with a young pair of sweethearts.

The pair gave up and walked out into the hallway, and then Rebecca hugged Ivan and cried with frustration.

Ivan, perhaps because he was a boy, was angry rather than weepy. "All this because something a magic hat told them about where I belonged. My grandpa was right, when he said, 'Boy, don't let a stupid hat tell you how to live your life!"

TO BE CONTINUED

_(Author's Note: For consistency's sake, I am assuming that there are two Professor Flitwicks: the gray-haired uncle who teaches Charms and is the advisor for Ravenclaw, and the much younger nephew who teaches music at Hogwarts. This is to account for the change in Flitwick's appearance and profession between movies 2 and 3.)_

_(Author's Note: Ishtar's argument based on "compatibility" was borrowed by me from a conversation in the novel DIVERGENT )_


	9. Chapter 9

**Hat-Crossed Lovers**

**Chapter 9**

The next day, Ivan sat at his accustomed place in the Dining Hall, and sulked. Professor Sprout was probably right about the transfer not being a good idea. Whatever his actual reason, his friends in Hufflepuff would consider that he had abandoned them, and they would be hurt. But the Professor had not been able to offer any better ideas, except for sneaking into the greenhouse whenever they wanted privacy.

Ivan wondered whether he should ask advice from his House fellows. He was a newcomer, but the people in his Year had been here for three years. He might be teased for being besotted with a girl, but they would eventually take a request seriously. But the problem was that it was not just his secret. It was Rebecca's, too, and she did not want it blabbed around.

Apparently Ivan's mood was obvious to everybody, even though his reasons weren't, because nobody tried to talk with him. He was thus surprised when a familiar voice asked "Hullo, Mr. Howe?"

He looked up, startled. Rebecca had walked over to stand next to the Hufflepuff table.

"I'd like to thank you for the book you loaned me about Muggle technology."

What was she doing? It's as if she was trying to turn the clock back several weeks.

"My pleasure, er, Miss Isaacson," he said, trying to follow her lead.

"I've taken up the project again, and I've got some more technical questions."

"I'd be glad to help."

"Professor Flitwick has given me permission to use his classroom for some tests. Could you come about 7 PM?"

Ah, this was cover for another meeting. "Certainly."

"Good. See you then." She turned and walked back to the Ravenclaw table.

"Wow, " said a boy near Ivan. "I wish a pretty girl would ask me for help."

"I asked you for help the other day," said a Hufflepuff girl.

"I said 'pretty' " he teased.

They started bickering and Ivan didn't have to explain the love relationship to anybody. Rebecca had been very clever.

0-0-0-0

He arrived at the Charms classroom at 7:01, and Rebecca flew into his arms. But after a few seconds, she backed out, and took a familiar box out of her robe.

"So the talk about your project was true?" Ivan asked.

"Yes. I hated the idea of sneaking to the greenhouse all the time, to be together. This way, we have an excuse to be together, and if people want to gossip that we're doing other things too, let them. Besides, maybe it's the Ravenclaw in me, but I like the idea of studying with somebody I love. Do you mind?"

"No. It would be like the Curies—"

"The who?"

"Muggle couple, long story. So what was the technical problem?"

"I've got a lot of processes packed in this box, but I don't know how to tie them together. I know it's called a computer program, but I don't know how it works, or how to imitate it."

"Hmm, I'm not an expert on this sort of thing. I know a program is stored in something called a file, and it's designed to run once you call it up, but that's about it. I'll probably have to write for more information."

For the next hour or so, they put their heads together – occasionally to study the magic computer, occasionally to kiss. Ivan realized that Rebecca was right: passion was one thing, but simple pleasure in each other's company was another. They ended by making another appointment when Ivan's book came, or maybe even earlier.

But then the real world intruded.

Ivan heard that Ravenclaw's girl prefect, Ishtar Evans, had lost her badge to Penelope Clearwater, whom he had met. The vague explanation was "impropriety with a boy". Ivan worried that Rebecca, who was always afraid of being caught, might be scared off of the next meeting, but she showed up and reassured him.

"I've heard the full story," she said. "Seems that Filch caught Ishtar and her boy friend sha - ahem - 'doing it'. "

"Where did you hear that?"

"My girl friends and I were talking about it in – er – the bathtub." She reddened slightly. "The point is, we're not doing anything that reckless. We're working on an important project, and occasionally kissing. It's all right."

But a couple of weeks later, something that happened that rattled Rebecca much more.

A patch of graffiti appeared on a wall, reading "THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE." Hanging nearby was what looked like a dead cat. It was only paralyzed, but that didn't settle anybody's nerves.

Ivan learned during the next few days that the Chamber was supposedly linked with hostility toward Muggle-born magicians. That didn't seem to affect him directly – his maternal grandfather was a Muggle, but the rest of his grandparents and both parents were wizards. Rebecca's ancestry was even more pure-blooded. But what shocked her was the parallel between hostility toward Muggles, and anti-Semitism. For the first time, she poured out her heartfelt concerns to Ivan.

"My grandparents had friends from Germany. Their friends were oblivious to the danger for a long time, maybe because they thought it was a "Muggle matter." But the Nazis came for them one day, and they had to use magic to get away. And for the rest of their lives, they were troubled by survivors guilt, because of the Jews who didn't have magic and couldn't get away."

"But do you think the "blood purity" idiots are that serious a problem?" asked Ivan.

"Why not? It's fear of the Other, that's what it comes down to. And when it's combined with power –"

Ivan tried to encourage her interest in the magic computer project, to get her mind off the worries. Unfortunately he realized that they were reaching the limits of his knowledge, that he didn't know THAT much about computers.

"Becky, I have an idea. The winter holidays are coming up. Would you like to come visit my family and their firm. I could put you in touch with a REAL expert – though, of course, I'd have to give him some sort of cover story that doesn't involve wizardry."

Rebecca looked thoughtful.

"And, frankly, it would be a relief for us to be together without having to sneak around the castle all the time," Ivan admitted. "So, how about it?"

TO BE CONTINUED


	10. Chapter 10

**Hat-Crossed Lovers**

_(AUTHOR'S NOTE: I apologize for the long delay in posting this chapter. Some distractions from my real job, plus an odd case of writer's block in imagining what the Howe's house and lifestyle would be like. I hope the rest of the story will go faster.)_

**Chapter 10**

"Pleased to meet you, Rebecca," said Mrs. Howe at the Kings Cross Railway Station. Unlike many of the wizard-parents picking up their children, she looked convincingly like a Muggle. "Ivan's told us so much about you."

"Thank you," said Rebecca. She was a little startled, because she had told her own parents very little about Ivan. She wasn't sure what to tell them.

Her parents had gone through all seven Years at Hogwarts and were quite familiar with the social setup there. They would know that a relationship between a boy and girl at different houses would run into a lot of logistics problems, and have little chance of success.

There was also a matter that had not bothered her much until she worried about telling her parents about it. Ivan was a Gentile. She didn't know whether he was a believing Christian or a casual nonbeliever; the question had never come up. But a year ago there had been a fuss in her family because a cousin had decided to marry a "goy" wizard. Rebecca had defended her.

"How much choice do we have?" she had asked. "If Jewish witches can't marry anybody but Jewish wizards, than doesn't leave a very big field. Eventually we'd get as inbred as those horrid Malfoys."

But why should that come up in relation to Ivan? Marriage and, for that matter, sex was years away. And while she didn't like the idea of their breaking up somewhere down the line, she also wasn't visualizing herself as marrying Ivan or sleeping with him. But her parents might bring it up, once she mentioned having a non-Jewish boy friend. So she didn't mention it.

But as the hols approached, she had to tell her parents that she wasn't coming home for Hannukah. It was not a major religious holiday; Passover and the High Holy Days in September were more important, but it would be the first time she had missed the December visit, and she needed to explain why.

In the end, Rebecca wrote her parents about her school project and how a classmate – of unspecified sex – had offered to introduce her to somebody who could help. Her parents had been Ravenclaws and they would understand the power of intellectual curiosity. And in a society where you communicated by magic owls who always found the recipient of a letter, you didn't have to give a forwarding address.

Her parents sent back a letter commending her zeal for knowledge and wishing her luck. They would send her Hannukah presents by owl. At that, Rebecca was frustrated at herself at not being honest with her parents. Her love for Ivan was, she thought, ennobling, so why should she have to hide the fact so much of the time?

She was still brooding on the question after they had reached the Howe's car and started out to Ivan's home, which was in an outer suburb of London. She tried to put it out of her head and concentrate on watching the scenery outside the car. Not the dazzling bits - Houses of Parliament or Tower Bridge – but simply the Muggle world.

She had spent months in a tiny corner of the world, never travelling further than the distance between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. It almost created the impression that the rest of the world did not exist. But here it was, miles and miles of it, while the school and village occupied a few square miles. She had heard of a character in Shakespeare who, unhappy in his home town, shouted "There is a world elsewhere!". A banal observation on one level, but a comforting thought to somebody unhappy with their current environment.

Mrs Howe concentrated on her driving while they were in the crowded city of London. Perhaps, being a witch, she didn't motor very often. Once they were in most restful suburbs, she spoke up more.

"One of our employees, Sarah Rosenberg, has been giving us advice on one kinds of cooking to avoid, Rebecca. We understand that you want to keep kosher. Sarah has also agreed to escort you to the local synagogue this Friday night and introduce you as a guest."

"Thank you, Mrs Howe."

"There's a catch. Sarah doesn't know about witches, much less a wizarding school, so you have to be careful what you say to her about your background. We've told her that your parents are friends of our family and that we've offered to expose you to some office life during the holidays."

"We have a cover story that we use when dealing with Jewish Muggles," replied Rebecca. "About being a clan of villagers who escaped from Europe in World War II, and decided to stick together. It should account for any slip I might make about not knowing about English customs."

"There will be a similar problem dealing with Shannon Carlton, the programming bloke whom we've asked to tutor you," said Ivan. "He'll want to know what prior knowledge you have."

"I've studied some maths in the past few weeks," assured Rebecca. "I knew that just knowing Arithmancy wouldn't cut it. I've learned that computers rely heavily on logic, and on understanding binary numbers, so I was careful to read about that, even though I don't think I'll need binary numbers for my own machine."

"Good," said Ivan. "Then let's stop worrying about things that could go wrong, and enjoy ourselves for a while. These ARE the holidays, after all."

About half an hour later, the motorcar slowed in front of a large house at the edge of town. It looked like an old house which had had a pair of short wings added later; it was the slightly odd shape, not any glaring change in style, that gave her that impression. Mrs. Howe pulled into a driveway on the far side, which led to a garage in back. The area was well lighted: by electric lights rather than gas lamps, Rebecca noticed. There was another small building beside the garage; hearing some hooting sounds from inside as she passed, she guessed that it was mews for owls.

Behind the garage and mews was a small patch of woods, but it didn't look too rustic; Rebecca noticed that it was enclosed at the sides and back by high stone walls.

"Ah," deduced Rebecca. "So you can use magic in the woods without worrying about Muggles seeing."

"That's right; clever of you to spot that," Mrs. Howe. Ivan grinned as if that was more than just a nice compliment. Rebecca realized that he was anxious that she created a good impression on his mother, and she had.

They went into a back door, and down a corridor that led them into a large drawing room at the front of the house.

"My father's in Paris, he should be back tomorrow afternoon," Mrs. Howe said. My husband said he'd have to work late, but you'll meet him at dinner. He's quite anxious to meet you. "

"I'm looking for forward to it," Rebecca said politely. She gazed around the drawing room, puzzled.

"Something wrong?" asked Ivan, as if reading her mind.

"Yes," replied Rebecca. "It looks so – so Muggle. Those pictures on the walls don't move. And I see that you've got some electronics over there - radio and CD player, I think. Most wizarding houses that I've seen, they have some wizarding artifacts in their main rooms, and of course spells clash with electronics."

"That's right," said Mrs. Howe. "We sometimes entertain guests from our company in here, so we want it to look normal by Muggle standards. All our wands and things are kept in the wings, and the guests know they're never to go there."

"Won't they suspect you're keeping a secret out there?"

"Oh, they KNOW we are. But they think we're hiding the secret process for manufacturing our product, and they've promised to respect that."

It was a different way of life than Rebecca was used to – not living in a wizarding enclave, but dwelling among Muggles and being very careful what you did or didn't make public.

"Ivan, why don't you take your luggage to your room?" asked his mother. "I'll show Rebecca to hers. We can rejoin at dinner."

Ivan went out a door at the side of the drawing room. Rebecca did not miss the fact that Mrs. Howe was showing her into the opposite wing. She didn't want the bedrooms too close to each other.

Mrs. Howe showed Rebecca a pretty and rather luxurious guest room, with its own bath accessible through a door.

"Now, Rebecca, I know that you and Ivan are quite in love, and frustrated with the lack of privacy at Hogwarts. Feel free to show affection to each other here. The only rule is, er –"

"I won't visit his bedroom and he won't visit mine?" guessed Rebecca. "It's all right. We're too young for - what you're thinking."

"Kids these days, you'll never know," Mrs. Howe said ruefully. "Okay. We'll meet for dinner in about an hour, when my husband gets home. I hope you enjoy your stay."

Rebecca looked around her room. HER room, alone. She was so used to sharing a dorm room with other girls at Hogwarts, even taking baths with them. It would be a pleasant change to simply go to sleep without being kept awake by her roommates chattering, or undressing for a bath without worrying about whether her arse was presentable. But the real pleasant change would be being able to kiss Ivan without feeling awkward about what will others think.

She was determined to enjoy her stay.

TO BE CONTINUED.

_(AUTHOR'S NOTE: The line "There is a world elsewhere" is from Shakespeare's CORIOLANUS; it is the hero's defiant response on being exiled from Rome) _


	11. Chapter 11

**Hat-Crossed Lovers**

**Chapter 11**

Ivan had expected that he would be able to spend a lot of time with Rebecca during the holidays, but it wasn't turning out that way. During the day he had agreed to help out at his parent's office, and though Rebecca would also be there, it was not a good idea to flirt in front of their co-workers. Rebecca's secondary project of learning computer technology was taking up more time than he expected, also. She and her tutor found it was convenient to practice with the computer after hours, when a terminal was not in use and could be taken off network. Friday evening, of course, she went to the local synagogue with Sarah. To be sure his parents had told them to feel free to show affection for each other when they were in the house, but it was a bit inhibiting to hug one's girlfriend with the parents watching.

Meanwhile, Ivan's parents had been looking about for some "holiday" entertainment that fit equally with both religious traditions, and found one. A riding stable in a neighboring town, whose business was naturally low during a snowy winter, was advertising sleigh rides on the weekend. They decided to drive over that Saturday afternoon. Ivan and Rebecca were to ride one sleigh, and Ivan's parents another. The parents thought that would be romantic even for them, a thought Ivan found a little disturbing. His grandfather, though back from his business trip, opted to stay home, saying the cold weather would be bad for him.

Ivan himself, standing in the queue with Rebecca, wasn't particularly having fun. He disliked standing in the low temperatures, and he didn't see the charm in pre-technological activities. After all, he had spent all fall writing with quills on parchment when he had a perfectly good word-processor at home. But he had to admit that Rebecca looked sexy in jeans, rather than the shapeless Hogwarts robes. Rebecca herself looked delighted at the outing. While waiting in the queue she admired the horses, and when it was their turn and Ivan headed toward the sleigh, Rebecca walked aside a few steps to pat the draft animals.

"I see that you like horses," he commented as they settled in the seat behind the driver."

"Yes, I go riding in the summer hols."

Suddenly Ivan's ideas of recreation took a 180-degree turn. If Becky liked riding horses, maybe he should learn, so he could ride with her come summer. A little voice inside him asked "Suppose you two are not still together by summer?" but he suppressed it.

Meanwhile the driver urged the horses to start pulling the sleigh. Moving through the cold air was uncomfortable to Ivan, but at least it gave them an excuse to snuggle up.

To his surprise, instead of exchanging sweet nothings, Rebecca started chatting about her computer work. Perhaps it shouldn't have been surprising, because Rebecca was a Ravenclaw who thought that intellectual work was an important part of life, right up there with going out with her boy friend.

"Shannon showed me where I was going wrong with my computer," she said. "I was trying to do everything at once. The crucial idea is modularization."

"What's that?"

"Breaking down the system into parts, and carefully design how they fit back together. Make sure the parts are reusable. For Shannon, the parts are apps or tools. For me, they'd be –"

Ivan hastily gestured at the back of the Muggle who was driving the horses. He doubted that the man would deliberately eavesdrop, but he might accidently overhear odd things, from a young witch and wizard. Rebecca got the point and went silent. He could tell what she had in mind anyway: organizing charms and spells in a sequence. "I hope I can help with that, when we get back to school."

"I'd like to thank your parents for all that they've done to help."

So would Ivan, but he found himself wondering whether it was all just hospitality.

Coming home had reminded him that his family was grooming him to eventually inherit the company. After all, the leader had to be a wizard or witch who could apply the magic to the company's project. But he wondered if they were looking even further down the line, to the next generation. From his family's point of view, the perfect wife for Ivan, somebody who could help him run the company, would be a brainy girl who was a witch but knew how to get along with Muggles. In short, somebody very much like Rebecca. Would they hoping that the romance at age 14 would last for years and eventually lead to marriage. Ivan was not looking that far and neither, he was sure, was Rebecca. He would have to be very careful not to mention his suspicions in Rebecca's hearing.

When they got home, they found that Grandpa had started a fire in the drawing room's chimney. It was the perfect response to the cold weather, and much more romantic than relying on the house's central heating would have been. Ivan was gratified that Rebecca seemed to be making a good impression on Grandpa. Some wizards and witches rubbed him the wrong way; he wanted them to be aware of and familiar with "the real world", and he was intrigued that Rebecca, on her own, was studying Muggle technology.

"Everybody is being so nice; it's going to be a letdown when we get back to Hogwarts, and have to seek excuses to see each other."

Ivan noticed his parents looking thoughtful. They had gone through Hogwarts, and maybe they were trying to think a way around the problem.

"The Sorting Hat put me in Ravenclaw, and Ivan in Hufflepuff, and as far as it's concerned never the twain should meet," complained Rebecca. "The Sorting Hat and the House system are supposed to represent the wisdom of the founders. So why does it seem so senseless?"

"Well," said Grandpa, "I have a theory about that."

"Please tell us about it, Grandpa," said Ivan.

"Well, to start with, compare a wizard or witch to a Muggle. Throughout most of history, the wizard would have a clear advantage. The wizard could cast spells, while a Muggle was limited to the power of his muscles. Anything a Muggle could do to increase his personal power, such as tame and ride horses, the wizard could do as well. If it came to a conflict, the wizard would have a clear advantage. And there HAVE been conflicts."

"Yes, with Voldemort," observed Ivan. "Though fortunately he defeated himself before he could attack Muggles."

"People in history have devised ways to limit a powerful person, generally by checks and balances," Grandpa went on. "In the ancient Roman Republic there were two men in charge called consuls. If one tried to increase his power, the other might try to stop him. When the States were first founded, they had the idea of dividing the government into three branches which might fight each other, instead of a centralized body like our Parliament. And Hogwarts has 4 houses."

"And the Houses are supposed to be in conflict?" asked Rebecca.

"Yes, miss. I haven't been to Hogwarts, but I've heard of the rituals – the House Points, the Quidditch matches. Students at Hogwarts are supposed to focus their negative emotions - aggression, jealousy, or suspicion - on other Houses, and when they do that, they don't feel the emotions toward Muggles."

"But it doesn't particularly work, does it?" asked Ivan. "I mean, the Roman Republic gave way to the Roman Empire, which definitely had one bloke in charge."

"And Ivan and I don't want to team up to beat up some poor Muggles," protested Rebecca. "We just want to enjoy each other's company, and the division into Houses makes it difficult for us to do that."

"Of course. We're talking about a broad strategy devised by wizards nearly a thousand years ago. Naturally they didn't foresee all the consequences."

Ivan thought about it. It was a dismaying thought, that he and his friends at Hogwarts were unwittingly following a plan devised for them centuries earlier. At least Ivan had only been following it for a few months. It would have been shocking to learn it after following the scheme for years. Ivan wondered how Rebecca, a fourth-year, was handling it.

But her thoughts had travelled in a different direction. "You said 'throughout most of history', sir. Do you mean that there have been exceptions?"

"Yes, miss. I'm thinking of the current century now ending. In the last hundred years, Muggles have not only developed many forms of technology, but made them available to the individual, and that has changed the balance. If a Wizard wants to send a message to somebody far away, he sends an owl. If he expects an answer, it may be a day before he gets it. And that sort of communication makes for a very slow exchange of ideas. But if I, a Muggle, wish to speak to a businessman in the States, I only need to pick up that telephone. To write a message in my office, I can use a word processing program, which lets me copy, paste, correct a message easily. A wizard has to write on a scroll with a quill. It's thought that within a few years, nearly every Muggle will own a computer which can search for information anywhere in the world, over the internet. At Hogwarts –"

"We have to go to the library, and hope we find the right book," finished Rebecca. "But that's why it's so important for me to develop a magic computer, and give wizards our own technology."

Ivan saw his grandfather open his mouth and close it again, apparently deciding to hold back his next remark. But since Ivan knew his grandfather well, and how he thought, he could imagine what the old man was about to say.

To Rebecca, giving wizards new technology was quite a positive thing. But according to Grandpa, there was a covert arms race between Muggles and Wizards, of which neither was quite aware. The Muggles now had technology that could be more important than having magic. Rebecca was working on technology for wizards, and slowly catching up. If the conflict ever became explicit – if, say, another Voldemort arose who wanted to lord it over Muggles – the stakes had been raised.

But Grandpa had politely kept his misgivings to himself, not wanting to dash the girl's hopes. And Ivan had one more thing that he needed to be careful not to say to his beloved.

TO BE CONTINUED

_(AUTHOR'S NOTE: I program computers for a living, and Becky's speech about "modularization" is straight from my textbook on design. On the other hand, the suggestion about the Sorting Hat's ulterior motives is, I hope, original with me.)_

_(AUTHOR'S NOTE: One more chapter to go)  
_


	12. Chapter 12

**Hat-Crossed Lovers**

**Chapter 12 Epilogue**

The evening after her return to Hogwarts, Becky took a bath, along with Lizzie, Janie, and Kitty. After a fortnight during which she had been able to bathe in privacy, it was a bit embarrassing to share her tub with three other girls, all in the same state of undress, but she supposed she would get used to it again.

The main topic of conversation, not surprisingly, was how they had spent their holidays. Janie had been to the continent, visiting some French cousins. Some of them were of her generation, and they attended BeauxBatons. The French cousins compared notes on the merits of BeauBatons and Hogwarts, and listened politely to Janie's descriptions of her school, though they clearly thought that Hogwarts – they pronounced it Ogvarts – was a singularly ugly name, even by Anglo-Saxon standards. A pig with bad skin? In comparison, "BeauxBatons" meant "Beautiful Wands", a lovely image.

Kitty could top Janie's story, because she had been to the States. Since none of the usual forms of wizard transportation could cross the Atlantic Ocean easily, her family had had to ride on what she called an "Error Plane", operated by Muggles.

"I remember how you told us that Muggles could do things magic can't," Kitty said. "Do you think your Con Tuber could help us fly across the ocean, Becky?"

"It's a different sort of technology altogether." She remembered Ivan's grandfather talking about how Muggles and wizards were in sort of an arms race in their different ways of controlling nature. Although he had politely refrained from referring to her magic computer in particular, and had even helped her get advice on how to design her machine, she had caught some depressing hints that increasing wizards' power might not be an entirely good thing. The fact that wizards still couldn't cross the Atlantic ironically made the arms race less threatening.

"How is your Con Tuber going?" asked Lizzie.

"It's 'Computer', and I made good progress over the hols," said Becky. "Among other things." She finally built up the nerve to make the announcement. Maybe the fact that she was already suppressing her inhibitions about being naked with her friends helped her speak frankly on other issues. "I spent the hols visiting my boy friend's family. I'm going with Ivan."

The other three burst out laughing. "Becky, we knew that all along! YOU were the one who kept denying it."

"Okay. Now that I'm being frank about it, there's a favour that I'd like to ask of you three-"

0-0-0-0

An hour later, Becky was alone in her dorm room, with a wizard's robe covering her modesty once more. Her friends had agreed to absent themselves for a time.

Becky got out the Flu Powder, a Christmas/Hannukah gift from Ivan's parents. Grandpa (he had asked her to address him that way) was not a wizard, and he had overlooked a form of wizard communication, the Flu Network. But Ivan's Dad had thought of it and provided the pair with a large supply of powder.

Becky understood perfectly well that the Howes weren't helping the lovers out of pure sentiment. They were a dynasty, like the Royal Family or the Rothschilds, and they hoped that Ivan would eventually take on a wife who would be an asset to their business. They seemed to approve of Becky. There was flattering, but also worrying, because she knew HER parents wanted her to marry within the faith. But Becky had an opinion of her own, which was that it was ridiculous to worry about such things when she was only 14. She just hoped they'd be together long enough for the Marriage Question to be a question.

She threw the powder into the fire. "Hufflepuff, fourth year boys' bedroom.". The fire burned green but didn't resolve immediately into an image. Of course, Ivan had to tell HIS mates about his sweetheart, which was scarcely a macho thing to do, and ask them to cooperate by giving him privacy as well. They might cooperate, but they might also tease him unbearably.

Furthermore, Ivan wasn't as thrilled about the Flu idea as she was. To Becky it was a novelty; to Ivan it would just be like talking on the telephone, not exciting at all.

But there! She was starting to see Ivan's image in the flames, and she knelt down to see him better. They had a way to communicate at Hogwarts at last.

"I love you."

"I love you."

THE END

_(Author's note: it's not really the end. I hope to pick up the pair's story later in their stay at Hogwarts. But it's the end for now)_


End file.
